Explainer
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Mental Health
6 min read

The rough sleeper: an icon of injustice

Each rough sleeper is a raw illustration of injustice. On an awareness day for both homelessness and mental health, Jon Kuhrt reflects on the root causes and yet sees hope.

Jon Kuhrt is CEO of Hope into Action, a homelessness charity. He is a former government adviser on how faith groups address rough sleeping.

A black and white close up of the weather-beaten and wrinkled face and beard of a homeless man.
Portrait of a homeless man in Prague.
Ales Dusa on Unsplash.

In 2016, five-year Brooke Blair became an internet sensation after a video of her berating Prime Minister Theresa May went viral. As she put it, she was ‘very angry’: 

“Yesterday night, I was out on the streets, and saw a hundred and a million of homeless people. I saw one with floppy ears, I saw loads. You should be out there, Theresa May. You should be, biscuits! Hot chocolate, sandwiches, you should be building houses. Look, I'm only five-years-old. There's nothing I can do about it. I'm saving up money but there'll never be enough. You've got the pot of money, spend some and help people.” 

The video struck a chord because a young girl was passionately expressing the distress, anger, sympathy and bewilderment that so many feel when seeing people sleep rough in such a wealthy country.   

The image of a rough sleeper is an icon of poverty. And just as religious icons represent the sacred, so does each person sleeping rough. 

Each rough sleeper is a raw illustration of injustice and social breakdown.  The structural issues of poverty and inequality crystalize in the plight of a vulnerable person huddling in a doorway. In them we see an amalgam of both political failure and personal tragedy. 

It's personal because we know that each person has a different story about what led them onto the streets. We will always be moved far more by a person than any statistic.  

The image of a rough sleeper is an icon of poverty. And just as religious icons represent the sacred, so does each person sleeping rough. A precious human of infinite worth, imprinted with the divine, living in destitution. And just as restoring fragile religious icons is a specialist job, so the task of restoring those who have been homeless is often complex and intricate work. 

Today, 10 October, is both World Homeless Day and World Mental Health Day. The two are closely intertwined. It’s a good day to reflect on the nature of homelessness and what we can do in the work of restoration. 

We cannot simply remove the tip of the iceberg without addressing the deeper issues ... The water is getting colder and the iceberg is growing. 

Rough sleeping is just the tip of a far bigger homelessness iceberg. It receives the most attention because it’s visible and visceral. But it is just a small fraction of the total number of people who have no settled home who exist underneath the waterline: those sleeping in temporary shelters, hostels and squats, sofa-surfing or placed in B&Bs. 

It’s the visibility of rough sleeping that gives it political capital.  Whilst in power, Margaret Thatcher, Tony Blair, Theresa May and Boris Johnson all launched high profile initiatives with ambitious targets to reduce or end rough sleeping. 

In 2018, I was seconded from the Christian charity I was working for into the Civil Service as a specialist adviser on rough sleeping. In the four years I spent in this role I worked under four different Prime Ministers and six different homelessness ministers. Despite some significant progress made before and during the pandemic, the numbers of people sleeping rough and those in temporary accommodation are starting to rise again.  

We cannot simply remove the tip of the iceberg without addressing the deeper issues of poverty that it is connected to. The reality is that we have a deep housing crisis in this country. The water is getting colder and the iceberg is growing. 

But the challenge is that rough sleeping and homelessness are genuinely complex problems.  Politics and economics provide some of the answers but not all. After thirty years of working with people who are homeless, these are the key issues which lie behind homelessness. 

Poverty of resources 

The most obvious cause of homelessness is the lack of affordable housing. Housing is a resource which is not distributed fairly, and this inequity creates intense pressure and vulnerability. All of this is compounded by austerity, funding cuts and benefit sanctions which have withdrawn support services for vulnerable groups. 

As London has become an international playground for the uber rich, many new housing developments are simply investment opportunities. Often people sleep rough outside accommodation no one lives in. It is a stark picture of the failure of the housing market. 

This aspect of homelessness is the one that government can do most about. Brooke Blair was fundamentally right – Prime Ministers need to build more houses for those who need them.   

A poverty of relationships 

But homelessness is more than house-lessness.  Homes are more than bricks and mortar: they are places of relationships. 

And if you talk with anyone sleeping rough, you are likely to hear of relationships that have gone wrong with partners or with their wider family. Some are fleeing abuse or domestic violence; some have been perpetrators. Relational problems are often a key source of regret and shame; where people carry their deepest scars. 

In our concern for people’s rights to the resources they deserve, we should not lose sight of where humans find true meaning and fulfilment. We all have a deep need to know and be known, to love and to be loved.  We cannot get away from the importance of relationships and a sense of belonging. 

A poverty of identity 

Finally, and most deeply, is the issue of people’s inner identity. The essential relationship that everyone has with themselves.    

The rise in mental health problems are symptoms of a vulnerability of our inner well-being.  For people affected by homelessness, their experiences of exclusion and trauma are both a root cause and an on-going reason for their mental fragility.  

And the addictions to alcohol or drugs which are common to many rough sleepers are deeply connected to these psychological vulnerabilities.  Drugs become a form of self-medication to ameliorate pain.  And however negative, the lifestyle required to maintain addictions can be relatively exciting and can provide each give a day a clear goal. It can be hard to leave such an identity and embark on a demanding journey of recovery.

Homelessness doesn’t just end in a flat. It truly ends in community and connection.

So, in short, homelessness is far more than house-lessness. Houses are a key resource but homes are primarily places of relationships and identity. And the restoration of these cannot be just done by the government. It requires a whole community. 

Thirteen years ago, a Christian couple in Peterborough, Ed and Rachel Walker chose to invest their own inheritance into a house for people who were homeless.  The idea inspired others: it was simple and innovative: encourage people with wealth to invest in homes for those who are poor. And each home was attached to a local church which provides friendship and support and a critical sense of community.  

This is the roots of Hope into Action where I now work. We are now a national charity with 106 homes across the country and last year we housed over 400 people. Our model is a holistic response to the types of poverty I have described.  

Our tenants are provided with the resource of a great house where they feel safe and secure. And this is combined with relationships with housemates and the support of local church volunteers. And our whole focus is to empower our tenants to find a more positive identity: whether through purposeful work, on-going recovery or through exploring faith. Last year, fifty percent of our tenants chose to engage in church activities and six took the step to be baptised. 

Homelessness doesn’t just end in a flat. It truly ends in community and connection. In our work we see justice and generosity in how resources are shared, compassion in the relationships that are formed, and hope on which people can rebuild a positive identity. Just as a lone rough sleeper is an icon of poverty, each of our tenants is a symbol of hope. 

Article
Comment
Grenfell disaster
Justice
Death & life
Politics
7 min read

Grenfell: a tale of two towers

The Inquiry offers an opportunity to change the way we treat each other

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

A wrapping around the Grenfell Tower bears a giant green heart.
The Blowup on Unsplash.

Graham Tomlin was Bishop of Kensington at the time of the Grenfell Tower fire. This is the first of a short series of articles reflecting on this milestone in our national life. 

The Grenfell Inquiry report is brutal. None of the companies involved in the renovation of Grenfell Tower escape. Arconic, Kingspan, Rydon, Celotex, Exova and many others – all have a lot to answer for.  Listening to the statement by Sir Martin Moore-Bick and reading the report, words such as ‘failure’, ‘dishonesty’, ‘misleading’, and ‘defective’ sounded like a tolling bell throughout his account.   

This was a tragedy that was decades in the making. Reports came out, warnings were issued and routinely ignored. A government which led a campaign of de-regulation without looking at the consequences for safety, a local council that failed to plan ahead for such an event, a tenant management organisation that treated the tenants they were supposed to serve with disdain, all played their part. The construction industry fared even worse. A culture of unholy competition, ‘value engineering’ (another term for deception), cost-cutting, a scramble for market share all took precedence over the safety of the people who were going to live in the newly clad flats of Grenfell Tower.  

In the past, initial reports such as those on Bloody Sunday in Northern Ireland and on the Hillsborough disaster, were weak affairs, failing to listen to the voices of victims, too careful to preserve the status quo, only leading to further anger, and further reports which finally began to address the key issues. This report has not pulled its punches – perhaps because they kept the human side of the tragedy in mind throughout. 

In the early stages, in an inspired move, the Inquiry decided to offer an opportunity for bereaved family members to simply describe the people who died in the fire. It was intensely moving as the richness and colour of each person was described, celebrated and mourned. As a result, this Inquiry has never quite lost the human nature of this tragedy and I suspect that is why its results have been so hard-hitting. 

No blame for the victims - instead he demands a radical national repentance, a re-examination of deeper social and spiritual trends, and for a radical turnaround of attitude. 

Jesus and another tower 

Remembering the human scale of the disaster is vital, yet in itself, it does not lead to change. At one point in his public teaching, Jesus was asked about another disaster involving a tower which led to the tragic death of a large number of people. At some point during Jesus’ time in Jerusalem, it seems a tower collapsed in a part of the city called Siloam, killing 18 people. This tragedy clearly had a significant impact across the nation, and people started asking what it meant, and what it said about the society in which they lived.  

Jesus' words were harsh:

“Those who died when the tower in Siloam fell – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.’”

No blame for the victims - instead he demands a radical national repentance, a re-examination of deeper social and spiritual trends, and a profound change of mindset. If they don’t, such disasters will continue to happen. When disaster strikes, it doesn’t say anything much about those caught up in it, but it does give us an opportunity to take a good look at ourselves.  

Jesus said that the two most basic commandments, the things we should set out to do every day of our lives, were to love God and to love our neighbour - who is deserving of love because they are first made and loved by God. The Grenfell story is an object lesson in what happens when those commandments get ignored. This is what happens when these commandments are superseded by other imperatives, such as to increase market share, to beat the competition or to safeguard the reputation of our own organisation.  

Grenfell was the result of a culture that has become so individualistic that we have lost sight of the fact that we are our brothers’ (and sisters’) keepers, that we have a responsibility for each other, and that we find purpose and meaning in loving our neighbours as we love ourselves, whoever they happen to be. I am sure that the employees of Arconic, Rydon, Kingspan and the Tenant Management Organisation of RBKC, would have done anything they could to ensure that they and their families enjoyed a safe and secure home. They simply failed to do that for those they were meant to serve through their work. They took care of themselves and their own. They lost sight of the people their work affected. They did not take care of their neighbour.

It is the individuals and institutions that have the resilience and flexibility to face up to failure, learn the lessons and to be open to change which ultimately excel. 

What happens now?  

Matthew Syed’s 2015 book Black Box Thinking looked at responses to catastrophic failure. He contrasted the approach of the medical profession with the aviation industry. Too often, he argued, when an error is made in the world of healthcare, the instinct is to cover up failure for fear of litigation or in order to protect reputations. As a result, he suggested, the same mistakes are often repeated, which means that thousands of people continue to die in hospitals every year due to preventable error. When a plane crashes, however, the ‘black box’ is recovered, data painstakingly analysed, and no stone is left unturned in order to determine the exact causes of the disaster to make sure that it never happens again. As a result, plane travel has become one of the safest means of transport we have.  

The companies and organisations that were meant to protect the residents of Grenfell failed in that duty. Yet the moral of Syed’s story is that failure is not something to be feared — but an opportunity to change. It is the individuals and institutions that have the resilience and flexibility to face up to failure, learn the lessons and to be open to change which ultimately excel. It is what the Christian church calls confession and repentance – the willingness to admit when we have got something wrong, bear the consequences, ask for forgiveness, resolve to learn from the error of our ways and to become a better person through it. Repentance is not wallowing in self-pity or hiding in a corner from the wagging finger of guilt; it is an invitation to honesty, to growth and to transformation.  

Those responsible will need to face justice. Yet if we allocate blame, punish the guilty, and then carry on as before, then there is no guarantee that something like this will not happen again. We might issue new types of building regulations, or safety measures in construction, but even that would not be enough. The kind of repentance that Jesus, and indeed the Grenfell Tower fire calls for is deeper - a radical look at the way we live together in our society.  

This involves all of us. As Andrew O’Hagan put it in a long article soon after the fire in the London Review of Books:

“In all the loosening of cares and controls and emergency services, it’s not just the current government but a succession of them that lie behind those deaths, and who, if not all of us, voted such vulnerability into existence? No one did well. If civic life is dead, with a 24-storey tombstone beside the Westway, it died in the times in which we too lived, and by the values we lived by. The point of a society, if we have one, is that when bad things happen, it’s everybody’s concern.” 

Grenfell is such an opportunity that we dare not let pass. If we carry on as normal, with our atomised individualism, our addiction to comfort, our spiritual poverty, our disregard for our neighbours, we would miss a huge opportunity to address some of the deeper issues in our life together, not to speak of refusing to heed the call of Jesus for true repentance.

In his statement in the House of Commons, Keir Starmer pledged a “profound shift in culture and behaviour.” I hope - and pray - this is what happens. Yet it will take more than changes to building regulation and for safety. It needs spiritual and not just political change, as I’ve argued here before. It would mean each of us looking at ourselves, and the cultures of the organisations of which we are a part (yes - including the church), and responding to the call to love God – to re-orient our lives around something, someone bigger and better than us – and to love our neighbours as much as we love ourselves. What if Grenfell sparked a fundamental change back to that more connected vision of who we are and what we are here for? Grenfell - and this report - is a shock to our system. Let us not waste it. 

 

Listen to Graham discuss Grenfell on BBC Radio 4's PM programme.